Listen to Me

I’m just going to think in sonnets now,

In rhyme schemes and a beat always the same;

Taking refuge in this solemn bow

To traditional writing in this age.

I’m tired of not knowing what to think

Or what’s appropriate to even say.

My thoughts jump around throughout the day

But none of them are close enough to link.

 

Others find it funny I can’t speak when

Words are always running through my head.

A myriad of things I wish to say

But everything I say is spread too thin.

Sonnets help me organize my mind�"

Counting stars that others assume are dead.